


Teach Me

by rizcriz



Series: tumblr is dying time to get compiling [11]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizcriz/pseuds/rizcriz
Summary: "Do your lips move when you read?"





	Teach Me

They’ve been seeing each other? Dating? Boyfriends? Quentin doesn’t know, they haven’t actually defined their relationship. And that doesn’t cause any internal anxiety about their situation at all. None. He’s fine. One hundred percent. He’s not at all bothered.

But he is off track. 

They’ve been … doing their thing for about two weeks when something from the trials comes back to him. They’re in Eliots room studying, because even they have to do school work with the entirety of the world resting on their backs. Because Dean Fogg is a raging dick. Or he wants them to be prepared. Quentin feels he toes the line on dickishness and overly worried parent/authoritative figure. 

But, Eliot’s looking down at one of the books, mouthing the spell to himself as his hands lazily form the motions. It makes that day in the woods come back, and something Eliot said that hadn’t made sense at the time.

But Quentin gets it now, he thinks. He smiles to himself, setting his book down, pencil rolling towards the spine and settling itself in between the pages. He tilts his head as the words wordlessly form on Eliot’s lips. There’s no sound, but Quentin sees small glimpses of his tongue on some of the harder letters, his chest rising and falling as he furrows his brow and squints down at the page he’s reading. 

It is kind of intimate, Quentin realizes, reading like Eliot is. His lips form the letters, delicately lets go of them as his tongue swipes across his lower lips, and he reaches down to flip the page. He chews down on his lower lip as he looks over the illustrations, but once he reaches the spell, his lips move wordlessly as he runs through the words of the spell. 

He’s in his own little world. And, yet, it’s a bit like Quentin’s been invited in without realizing it. 

He pushes his chair back from the desk, and moves across the room. 

Eliot’s lips stop mid word, as his eyes slowly shift up to look at him wearily. His eyebrow perks, and the soft little ‘o’ shape of his lips thins out, so he can ask, “Can I help you, Q?” 

Quentin shrugs, “Do your lips move when you read?” 

Eliot narrows his eyes, before a slow smirk forms along the edges of his lips. He casts his gaze down and starts closing his books. “You’ve been watching me. Why don’t you tell me?” He asks, without bothering to look up. 

“You do.” Eliot’s cheeks puff up like he’s smiling down at the books. 

“Hmm.” 

“Why’d you ask me that? In the woods during the trials?” 

He looks back up at him, then, scooting back against the headboard, looking thoughtful as he rests his arms along the top of it. “Why do you think I asked?” He questions, smirking. 

“I think,” Quentin starts moving towards the bed until his knees knock against the edge of the mattress. He kneels down atop it, slowly scooting closer to him, “You wondered what shapes my mouth could make,” He smirks, as well, reaching up to push his hair out of his face. “What my tongue does when it’s not talking back at you … what I look like when I’m completely vulnerable.” 

Eliot looks up, tilting his head, “Sounds reasonable,” He whispers, as Quentin sidles up in between his legs, still on his knees, and barely an inch taller than him like this, “Some people are expressive when they read. But when they speak the words, you get an insight into their minds. Their expression, how they look when they say certain things.” His arms come down, until he’s resting his hands on Quentin’s hips. “How they look when something makes them feel. When you read,” He adds, leaning forward, and tugging Quentin closed to him, “Your lips move, and I get to see you realize what’s happening, and I get to see you feel it in the exact moment. It’s two different parts of you, intermingling.” He shrugs, smirking up at him, “Course, your tongue is a delectable bonus.” 

Quentin laughs, leaning down, his nose brushing up against Eliot’s, “Yeah?” He breathes. 

“Absolutely.” Eliot turns his head up, pressing his lips to Quentins. “In fact, I’d much rather study it,” He murmurs against his mouth, “Than magic right now.” 

Quentin hums. “I can be a pretty good tutor.” 

Eliot laughs, wrapping his arms around Quentin’s lower back, tugging him as close to his body as he can. “Then teach me.” 


End file.
